


Readjustment

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Series: See the USA [3]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: After three years on the run with William, Mulder and Scully have to adjust to normal life again. Sequel to "See the USA."
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: See the USA [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/915480
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Readjustment

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my fic "See the USA."
> 
> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

William’s asleep on the second bed in their motel room; he’s mostly stopped napping by now, but he was running around a lot this morning. They keep their voices low as they talk, looking over at him. “We’ll have to explain to him,” Scully says. “I don’t know how, though.”

“It’ll be…he’s used to things changing,” Mulder says.

“But he’s used to being with us,” Scully says. “Just us. And now…there’ll be a lot of new people, and we should probably start him in preschool, and…” She breaks off, shakes her head.

“Are you okay?” Mulder asks. He’s watching her. She knows he’s glad, that he felt guilty for what their lives had become, no matter how many times she told him not to.

“I am,” she says. “You know how happy I am about this. It’s just that…it’s not simple.”

“No,” he says, after a moment, “it’s not, huh?” She leans against him, their arms around each other. “But we’re going home. We can do all the things we’ve talked about.”

“Home,” she echoes, and she thinks about those things. It might take a while for what Skinner told them to sink in—that Mulder’s been cleared, that they’re free to return to Washington—but for the moment she lets herself imagine the future. A house that’s their own, where they’re not all crammed together. Seeing the people they love again. Getting married in the legal sense, even if they’ve considered themselves husband and wife for years now. Making a life. Not always being afraid.

She kisses Mulder, suddenly. He kisses her back, and they sit and watch William sleep, unknowing, and they think about what might come next.

They’ve spent the last three years traveling light, and yet it still seems strange to pack everything up. It still feels like a major change, like a period of time being put away. (She remembers the high chair they abandoned in Montana, the crib in Wyoming.)

They talk to William while they’re packing; they’ve told him they’re going home to Washington, but it’s a home he doesn’t remember, and Scully’s not sure he entirely understands what it means. So they talk about simpler things. “Do you want to put Bunny and Whaley in your bag?” she asks him. “So they can ride with us on the plane?” He has extremely unimaginative taste in names for his stuffed animals, but he loves them deeply; they’ve been a constant for him in a life with few.

“Yes,” William says. He watches solemnly as she packs them. “Where are we going?” he asks.

“To Washington,” Mulder says. “We told you that, remember?”

“Where is it?” William asks. “Why can’t we drive there?”

“Well, it’s pretty far,” Scully says. “All the way on the other side of the country. So we could drive there, but it would take a while. And we want to get there soon.”

“Why?” William asks.

“Because it’s where our home is,” Scully says. “A lot of people we love are there,” she adds, when he keeps staring at her, as if he’s waiting for something. She isn’t sure what home means to him. “And we used to live there too. When you were a baby.”

“I know,” William says. He remembers that from what they told him, at least. “How long will we stay there?”

“A long, long time,” Mulder says. “At least we hope so.”

“Why?” William asks. It’s something he asks all the time, about everything, so why should it suddenly feel more fraught?

Flying with William is fun, though; everything about it is new to him. He asks questions about the airport, about the baggage scanners, about the plane, about the food. They take turns answering. In between questions, Scully looks out the window, as they fly over places they’ve traversed before, as they get nearer and nearer to their destination.

She feels home when she sees them all at the airport. She relaxes—which has the effect of making her realize she was more tense than she knew—and thinks that everything is going to be all right. Maybe she couldn’t believe it, before. But people are here to welcome them, right here, in the airport, in the open, in public, in full sight of security officers, and that must mean they’re safe.

She hugs her mom first, closely, tightly; they’re both tearing up. “Hi, Mom,” she manages. “I missed you.” They’ve seen each other twice in the past years, both times snatched, too short, full of regrets.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” her mom says. “Let me look at you.” She stands back; Scully straightens up self-consciously. “You look good,” she says. “You too, Fox. And William! You’re so big now. Do you remember me?” But William is shaking his head, hanging on to Mulder’s leg.

Scully ruffles his hair. “You were still pretty little the last time we saw Grandma, huh?” she says. “You’ll get to know each other really soon, though.” He nods, his face serious, and she wonders what he’s thinking; there’s a lot to take in. It must mean something different for each of them.

Their friends, their colleagues, are there too: Skinner, Monica, John. There’s too much to say, and she knows Mulder feels it too. “I don’t know how to thank—” His voice breaks. He takes a breath. “I’m so grateful—” Another. “So glad—” He stops trying, but no one seems to expect more from him, right now.

They gather around, exchange greetings, embraces, stray bits of the news of three years. They try to see that William gets the names. “Monica gave you Whaley,” Scully tells him, and Monica stoops down, tells William that she’s sure he doesn’t remember her but she remembers him, she was there when he was born. So much has happened that that feels like another lifetime. Scully hopes the difference is permanent, that there will never be another night of that kind of terror in her family’s lives.

The three of them are staying with her mom until they find a place. They ride there, three in a row in the backseat of the car. Mulder squeezes her hand and smiles at her. She thinks the smile she gives him back must match: relief and joy and a slightly stunned look.

Her mom wants to talk, and they do over dinner, but they’re all exhausted, and they go to bed right after that. She and Mulder are in the guest room, William in a small bed in the room next door. They sit beside him once they’ve tucked him in, somehow unwilling to go. “Do you like it here?” Mulder asks him. “So far?”

“Yes,” William says. “I like the blanket.” There’s a knitted blanket on the bed, stripes in shades of blue, one that Scully remembers from her own childhood as soft to curl up in.

“It’s a nice one, isn’t it?” she says. “And we’ll be here for a little while. Until we get our own house.” William nods—he doesn’t seem fazed—and she kisses his cheek. “Good night, sweet William.”

“We’ll be right next door if you need us,” Mulder says, and William nods again, and they go.

They settle into bed together. She wraps her arms around him. “Well?” she says.

A little word, but she knows he knows what she means. “I’m glad,” he says, and she knows what he means too. “You?”

“Me too,” she says. “Our own room,” she adds, after a few moments; they’ve been sharing with William, in those motels.

“Indeed,” he says, and he kisses her.

They’re still relatively quiet, because William is right next door, and her mom is two doors down in the other direction, and still awake, she thinks, and she knows the walls are thin here. It’s not quite like having their own home yet. But _close_ , she thinks, and _soon_.

They arrange to get married at the courthouse the next Saturday. “You’re sure that’s all you want to do?” her mom asks her. “I thought I could help you do something a little more…”

She feels a little bit guilty that she can’t give her mom what she wants, when there’s so much she’s missed out on. Maybe she would have wanted it herself once, but not anymore, now. “We just…we don’t want to wait, Mom,” she says, and maybe that’s silly, since they’ve already waited quite a while. Since they already have a child together, a life, love. But that is how they feel. And her mom seems to understand, when she says it; she nods and doesn’t ask again.

“Your mom and I are getting married tomorrow,” Mulder tells William on Friday. “What do you think about that?”

William looks up from the puzzle he’s playing with. “Okay,” he says.

“Ouch,” Mulder says. “Just okay?”

“I don’t know,” William says. “What will we do?”

“When we get married?” Mulder asks, and William nods. “Well, there will be a ceremony. We’ll say some vows—do you know what that means?” William shakes his head. “They’re like promises. We’ll say that we’re going to be together forever.”

“You do that already,” William says.

“True,” Mulder says. “But sometimes it feels good to say something publicly. Put it out there. You know what I mean?” William shrugs. “Anyway, we’ll give each other rings.” They decided they’re going to use the same ones they’ve been wearing for the past couple of years, the ones Mulder found in a secondhand shop on the road. They mean something now, something that new rings might not. “And then we’ll have a nice lunch.”

“What will we eat?” William asks. He seems most excited about that part, which is natural, Scully guesses, at his age.

“We’ll go to a little restaurant nearby,” she tells him. “Your dad and I used to go there all the time. They have really good sandwiches. And,” she adds, “you can get a special dessert.”

His eyes light up. “Can I get ice cream?”

“Sure you can,” Scully says, and he smiles. “Two flavors, even,” she adds, which is maybe a little reckless, but she loves him, and everything is new here, and she wants him to be happy. William lets out a shriek of joy, and he hugs her. She hugs him back, and Mulder comes and joins them.

In the morning, they have to tell William that the ice cream will be coming after the ceremony and then after lunch and that asking about it will not make it come any sooner. She puts on a dress that she’d left here, back when they went away. It’s simple, blue; she’s always liked it. Mulder looks at her like she’s a newly discovered star. She looks back at him, tries to smile, feels the tears in her eyes, touches his cheek.

They say the words to each other, there in the courthouse, and all of it is real. They can’t stop looking at each other, can’t let go of each other’s hands. She’s not aware of much else, but she thinks even William must have grasped the meaning now, because she knows he’s quiet and still.

They hold hands over lunch. She reads the flavors of ice cream out to William, when it’s time for dessert, and it sounds so good that she and Mulder decide to get some too. They split a sundae; he lets her have more than her share of whipped cream, and she lets him have the maraschino cherry. Maybe that’s what being married means.

The house they find is perfect, as far as Scully is concerned. It’s just the right size: it feels cozy, but there’s room for her and Mulder and William and probably a dog (Mulder will come around, she thinks) and maybe someone else, maybe sometime soon. There’s a big yard for all of them, a grocery store nearby that carries the cereal she likes. There’s a preschool for William that’s not too far away. It is a little bit farther from the city, but somehow that seems right. Even though the place is new, it carries its own familiarity: just another entry in a history of living off the beaten track.

They move their things in: the belongings that have lived with them on the road and those that have lived in storage. They rediscover items they’ve missed (and sometimes marvel over their past tastes). They go to the store with William so that he can pick out things for his room, the first one he’ll be able to remember. He chooses a wallpaper with bunnies on it and a blanket with red and blue stripes. Scully explains to him that it’s going to be their house now, that they aren’t going to move around anymore. She hopes he’s as excited as they are about it.

She can’t stop smiling, the first night after they’ve moved in, and Mulder can’t either. They keep sneaking looks at each other while they’re making dinner, with their own full set of pots and pans and cutlery. He kisses her when she’s chopping vegetables.

He kisses her again when they settle into their bed. He more than kisses her. They’re here at last, together and safe, and it feels so good, and she…

“Let me hear you,” he says.

She’s puzzled for a moment, and then she understands. She didn’t even realize: it’s second nature, now, to try to be quiet, to speak in whispers and stifle their moans. “You too,” she says, and she can tell her voice is soft.

It’s not as easy as it sounds. It’s not that they aren’t as good together as they’ve ever been, as they were in those first, overpowering days, when she shocked herself with her responses to him (she’d never been with someone who made her be that loud). But now, when it’s a matter of habit, of limited space and trying not to wake up William, it doesn’t feel natural. She can tell herself that William’s at the other end of the hall now, but it doesn’t help; it only makes her wonder if he’s okay, off on his own. She finds herself trying to be louder, and that feels worse. It should be something so automatic. She breaks off and looks at Mulder. “Sorry,” she says.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, smoothing her hair back. “It’s…it’s a little weird now, right?”

And she nods, because he always understands. “Yeah.”

“We’ve got to work back up to it,” he says. “Like we’re in training. Maybe do some vocal exercises.” And she has to laugh at that, and when they do make love it’s sweet, even if it’s soft. This is just an adjustment period, she tells herself. There’s nothing wrong with them. There couldn’t be, not when it’s her and Mulder, and not when they’re safe again.

William is sitting solemnly on the couch, ready for his first day of preschool.

They’ve done everything they can—researched the school, met his teachers, taken him in for a visit, explained to him what it will be like—but Scully’s not sure that’s enough. She’s not sure he’ll be ready. He hasn’t been out of their company in the last three years. How’s he going to take spending time without them? It’s only a half day for now, sure, but even that… “What do you think, sweetie?” she asks him. “Are you ready to go?”

William nods. “Ready,” he says, and they have to trust that. They have to go.

But he clings to their hands as they drop him off, and it’s hard to peel herself away. She does her best, though, leaning down and kissing the top of his head. “Your dad and I will be back so soon,” she says. “Right at noon. Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely,” Mulder says. He kisses William too. “We’ll always come back to get you. That’s a promise.”

“Really?” William asks. His voice is wobbling. Maybe this is all a bad idea.

“Really, really,” Scully says. “We love you.”

William’s teacher is watching them; she’s probably seen her fair share of these farewells, although Scully doubts that other families have been in quite their circumstances. “Do you want to come with me, William?” she asks. “We can go play with blocks. Remember we did that when you came to visit?”

“Okay,” William says, after a moment. He lets go of their hands, slowly, and he walks with his teacher across the room. Maybe he’ll be okay. She hopes so.

They’re quiet in the car at first. “Do you think we started him too soon?” Mulder asks. “It’s not like we need to be at work or anything. We could have kept him home.”

“We could have,” Scully agrees. Right now, that seems like a very appealing prospect. “But…he is four. He will have to start school next year. We wouldn’t want that to be the first time.”

“Yeah,” Mulder says. “It’s a good thing, probably. I mean, that we even get to be worrying about this.”

“True,” Scully says. “We could still be stuck in a motel somewhere. Maybe that really terrible one in Montana.”

“Don’t remind me,” Mulder says. “At least William’s preschool can’t possibly smell that bad.”

Scully laughs. They drive the rest of the way home. They do the crossword, and they work on putting together the new bookshelves they got for the living room, and they talk about the movie they watched last night, and they try not to worry about William. In spite of it all, they still get there a little early when it’s time to pick him up.

Scully scans the room from the doorway, looking for William. He’s near the back of the room, building a tall, tall tower of blocks with three other kids. She can see him smiling, can hear him laugh from here. It makes her smile too.

“Looks like he did all right,” she says to Mulder.

“Knew he would,” Mulder says. She doesn’t call him on it, because he could do the same right back.

They make their way towards William when his teacher opens the door. He’s still intent on the tower, not looking up until they’re right by his side. “Hi, Mommy!” he says. “Hi, Daddy! These are Mike and Caitlin and Jake. They’re my friends.”

“That’s great,” Scully says. “Wow, you made so many friends today.”

William nods cheerfully. “And I played with the blocks,” he tells her and Mulder, “and we had circle time and story time and snack time and song time.”

“Sounds like a full morning,” Mulder says. “So you had a good time?”

“Yes!” William says. “Am I going to come here again tomorrow?”

“You are,” Scully says. “Every morning during the week.”

“So we can play with blocks again,” William tells his friends. “And we can build a bigger tower.”

He tells them all about his morning when they’re in the car going home, and every time Scully looks at him, he’s smiling. He’s her baby, and she’ll probably always worry about him some, but it’s a relief to know that when it comes to preschool, to this ordinary milestone, her worries were misplaced. William is happy, and he has friends. Such simple things, and yet she’s so glad.

She’s at the grocery store with William, picking up things for the week. “Can we get animal crackers?” William asks. “We have them at school.”

She picks up a package and looks at it. She guesses they’re not too unhealthy, as cookies go. “Sure.”

They make their way through the aisles, William sometimes lagging behind. It’s not as easy as it was in the days she could just toss him in the cart’s seat and be sure that he wouldn’t whine to get out. “Do you want to hold my list?” she asks. “You can be my helper.” He’s not really a huge amount of help—she could definitely do this more quickly on her own—but it gets him to stick by her side, anyway, and they eventually finish getting what they need. Then there’s waiting in the check-out line—a particularly long one that day—and putting everything into the car. And of course, because it’s that kind of day, there’s an accident up ahead of them and lots of traffic. She lets William dip into the animal crackers.

They’re slowly approaching home when her phone rings. She jumps; she’s still not used to people calling her. Then she lets it ring, because she doesn’t want to pick up when she’s driving, not with William in the backseat and when she’s in this start and stop traffic. It rings again, after a minute or two, and then again as they’re finally pulling into the driveway. She’s reaching to pick it up when the ringing stops abruptly and she sees Mulder coming towards them, his own phone in his hand.

“Where were you?” he asks.

“At the grocery store,” Scully says, unbuckling William from his car seat. “Like I said.”

“Well, what took so long?” Mulder asks. “And why didn’t you answer your phone? I tried calling.”

“It was crowded and there was a lot of traffic,” Scully says. “And I didn’t want to pick up the phone while I was driving.” She studies his face; he looks almost panicked. “Are you okay? Did something happen while we were out?”

He lets out a breath. “No,” he says. “Nothing happened.”

He doesn’t say anything more, and she waits until they’re in the house and William is in his room playing with his toys before she pursues it further. “What is it?”

“It’s not…it’s silly,” Mulder says, slowly, after a moment. “I just…I got worried something had happened to you.”

She could tell him that nothing’s going to happen to them, now. Instead, she kisses his cheek. “If I’m running late again, I’ll call you,” she says. “I didn’t think.”

“It’s not your fault,” he says. “I was being stupid.”

“You weren’t being stupid,” she says. She holds him against her. “But we’re okay.”

One of the first things Scully insisted they all do, once they got back, was get full medical and dental check-ups. They hadn’t been able to access reliable care for so long; it was one of the things she felt most guilty about, with William. These years were so important. But he checked out okay, thank God. They all checked out okay.

When she talked to her own doctor, though, she didn’t know what to say about birth control. They’d been using condoms over these past years: safe and simple and available everywhere without an appointment or a prescription. And now…well, they’d talked about another baby. She knew it might not be possible, but she wanted to try.

They have a home now, a life together. She knows William would make a great big brother. She imagines Mulder by her side through the whole thing, holding her hand while she gives birth in a clean hospital. Maybe the baby will be another boy, or maybe a girl this time. Either scenario makes her smile.

She thinks about all this, but when she talked to her doctor, she asked to go back on the pill. It’s not an irreversible decision by any means. She could stop taking it any day.

She still takes it every morning, with her orange juice and vitamins.

Mulder knows, of course. “I thought…we should just get settled first,” she told him. “Especially with William. We don’t want too much change at once.”

“Of course,” he said. He didn’t sound upset about it. It wasn’t like she wanted him to be upset, so she wondered why that jarred her.

She’s getting older, she knows, and that’s without considering all of the unusual factors that might make a second pregnancy difficult for her. She doesn’t want to wait around on this forever. This is something they both want.

_Soon_ , she thinks, as she sips down the orange juice.

They take William to Jake’s birthday party and watch him immediately dart away into a group of other kids. He has so many friends already.

“It’s funny how social he is,” Mulder says, when they’re driving home. “Wouldn’t have expected that from a kid of ours.”

“I used to be social,” Scully says. “A long time ago.” She worries that it sounds accusatory, so she adds, quickly, “But you’re right. I was never that quick at making friends. It was always hard for me when we moved.”

“Aw,” Mulder says. They’re at a stoplight, and he kisses her cheek.

“I had Missy and the boys,” she says. “I wasn’t lonely.” He doesn’t have to say anything for her to kiss him back, to squeeze his hand.

When they get back to the party to pick William up, the kids are still running around the yard; Jake’s mom, Ida, offers them seats in a group of other parents. “You just moved here recently, didn’t you?” she asks.

“Yes, that’s right,” Scully says.

“Where were you before?” Ida asks.

“Idaho,” Scully says, although that’s only the latest in a long series of places.

“Wow, so far,” Ida says. “What brought you here?”

“Oh, we used to live here when William was a baby,” Scully says. “We just wanted to come back. Be closer to family.” That’s far from a complete answer either. She doesn’t know if they can give complete answers to anything. “This is such a nice party,” she says instead. “Thanks so much for inviting William. He loves playing with Jake.” And they talk with the other parents about preschool, and how great Miss Christina is with the kids, and the noodle art projects that everyone brought home last week, and Halloween plans. Normal things they’re glad are a part of their lives now. She can still feel the tension everywhere in her body.

She’s at the bank. Everything’s taking longer than she thought it was going to, because of how long they’ve been out of communication. She remembers that day at the supermarket and wants to call Mulder, but she’s in the middle of a long discussion with one of the managers, who it took her a while to even get to, and she can’t just duck out.

But once she’s thought of it, she can’t concentrate on what he’s saying any more. _Mulder might be worrying about me_ , she thinks, and then _but there’s nothing for him to worry about, I’m right here at the bank, surrounded by people, no one could just come and take me without anyone seeing_. But Mulder and William aren’t anywhere public. They’re at home, in their house that’s a little bit off the main roads. And they’re the ones people were chasing. _Maybe something’s happened to them_ , she thinks, and then _maybe something’s happening right now and I’m not there to stop it._ _Maybe this was all a trick to get us back. Maybe maybe maybe…._ And _what if they’re not safe?_ turns into _they’re not safe, I know it._

She tries to listen to the manager, but she can’t think and her hands are sweating. “I’m sorry,” she says, cutting him off. “Could you excuse me for a minute, please?” And then she’s in the hallway outside the office, grabbing her phone from her bag, punching in Mulder’s number as quickly as she can. One ring. Two rings. She waits…

And then his voice, blessedly, not sounding like anything’s wrong. “Mulder.”

“Mulder,” she breathes. “Are you okay? And William?”

“Of course we’re okay,” he says. “What is it? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m still at the bank,” she says. “I just…I was worried that something might have happened to the two of you.”

“Nothing’s happened,” he says, carefully, tenderly. “Do you want to say hi to William?”

“Please,” she says.

There’s the sound of Mulder handing over the phone. “Hi, Mommy,” William says, his voice a little loud against the mouthpiece. She’s never talked to him on the phone before, she realizes. She’s never been away from him long enough to need to.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says.

“Are you sad, Mommy?” he asks.

He must hear the fear in her voice. She can’t let him worry too, so she does her best to sound calm. “No, sweetie. I just wanted to say hi to you. Are you and Dad having a good time?”

“Yes,” William says. “We’re playing Lego farm.”

“That sounds like so much fun,” she says. “Well, I’ll be home soon. Once I finish my errands. Can you give the phone back to Dad?”

She hears him passing the phone back, and now Mulder’s on the line again. “We’ll see you soon?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says. “Sorry I…sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “It’ll be all right, Scully.”

She can’t face the rest of the meeting, still wanting to get home as soon as possible, so she makes an excuse to the bank manager and leaves. On the drive back, she thinks about how foolish she feels. She never panicked like this when they were still on the road, on the run, actually in danger. Why now?

Mulder and William are waiting for her when she comes in the door, and Scully gives them both big, long hugs. _This is our home,_ she reminds herself. _We’re safe here._ She takes a breath. _We’re all right_. But that last part doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel true.

She keeps thinking about it the rest of the afternoon, as they play with William and make and eat dinner. She and Mulder put William to bed that evening; he chatters away about his Lego farm and his friends and what they’re going to build together in preschool on Monday. He listens to a story and smiles when they kiss him goodnight.

Then they sit together in their bedroom. Under other circumstances, with someone she doesn’t know so well, love so much, Scully might not know how to broach this subject. Right now, she knows that it has to be done. “I think we need help,” she says.

Mulder nods. “I think so too,” he says. He looks sad as he touches her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” she says. She kisses his hand as it brushes her lips. “I guess it was too much to expect that we’d come out of all this perfectly adjusted.”

“Yeah,” he says. “You’re right. We should look into…we should find someone to talk to. I have some contacts. We can call on Monday.”

Monday, she thinks, when William will be going off to preschool, full of energy, to build block towers with his friends and not worry about the two of them being gone. “That sounds good,” she says.

“Do you want to look for two different counselors?” he asks. “Or see someone together?”

“I think different,” she says. “That’d probably be good for us. Getting used to being out of each other’s sight.” She remembers how William used to cry whenever she went to the bathroom, with no conception of her still existing somewhere in the world.

“Yeah,” he says. “That makes sense. Just…know you can tell me too, okay? Like this. If things aren’t all right.”

“I know,” she says. “Same goes for you.” She pauses, catching his hand between her own. “Mulder…do you think we’re going to be okay? Eventually?”

He looks her in the eye. “I do,” he says. “We’ve made it through too many things for me to think any different.” He holds her against him. “You’re the strongest person I know, Dana Scully.”

“I love you,” she says, her voice thick. In this moment, their arms tangled, it’s so easy to feel safe.

Scully’s seen therapists before, and she knows it can take a bit of time to build a rapport. Today, when she feels like she’s narrating endless outré backstory, is no different. But still, she feels like she’s doing something, and that’s a lot better than nothing. She meets Mulder afterwards, and they drive home together, stopping to pick William up on the way; they make lunch, and then they spend the afternoon in the yard, because it’s a beautiful day.

They work on letting each other go, on spending time apart and knowing the other will be there safe on their return. It’s still not a lot of time apart, because she happens to enjoy Mulder’s company (she tells him that, and he laughs and says he feels the same way about her). But she’ll go to church with her mom. Have lunch with Monica. Take a run. Bring William with her to the store so they can pick out Mulder’s birthday present. At first, she has to take deep breaths, fight through the fear. But their reunions are always sweet, comforting, and after a time the parting becomes less difficult. It helps to know that they’re both working on this, that she has Mulder to hold on to when it’s hard.

They work on making the house into home, into really feeling that they have this place to come back to, every day. They mark William’s height on a wall off the kitchen, marveling at how tall he’s gotten. They get around to painting some of the rooms; William leaves footprints along the hall. They stick photographs to the refrigerator with alphabet magnets and show William how to spell his name.

“Mulder,” she says, in bed one night. “About the baby. I think I was scared.”

He turns to her. “I know,” he says, and she guesses that’s no surprise. “It’s okay. You think I wasn’t?”

“We weren’t…it wasn’t real yet,” she says. “All of this.”

He nods. “You know it’s up to you,” he says. “If you’re not ready…or if you don’t want to…”

“I do want to,” she says. “I’m ready now. If you are.”

His touch on her arm assures her. “I want to be here for it all,” he says.

“You’re going to be so cute with the baby,” she says. “I’ll have to take lots of pictures.”

Mulder smiles. “How do you think William’s going to like it?” he asks.

She thinks about it. She worried about him, these past months, about how he would adjust to this new life, and he adjusted faster than any of them; she used it as an excuse, before, when they were talking about the baby, but an excuse was all that it was. A part of her was worrying because she’s his mom; a part of her was worrying for herself and Mulder. “We’ll just have to see,” she says. She leans in and kisses Mulder. When he starts to kiss her neck, his hands moving to her breasts, she gasps out his name and he groans hers back, their voices filling the room.


End file.
